


Not For My Neck

by Neriad13



Series: Explicit One-Shots [9]
Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Bondage, Cock Bondage, F/M, M/M, Masturbation, handjobs, yeah Aloth stand up for yourself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-11 02:12:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16466720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neriad13/pseuds/Neriad13
Summary: Tekēhu has very little respect for Aloth's personal space and is constantly leaving items of a dubious nature in his sleeping berth.On a quiet night, with everyone else off on an adventure, Aloth decides to give one of his toys a try. Iselmyr's done this before and is happy to help.





	Not For My Neck

Aloth was enjoying the most glorious few hours of alone time he'd had in weeks. Maia was off on some secret mission. The Defiant's crew was off carousing in Queen’s Berth. And the Watcher had taken everyone remaining to tend to some sort of emergency in the Watershaper's Guild. Aloth had decided to sit that one out, seeing as he was still rather rattled with the affair of the kraken at Cignath Mór. The longer he spent in dry air, with nothing but the open sky above him, the better he felt.

The sole exception to the mass exodus was Beodul, ever unwavering in his devotion to his post. They’d nodded to each other when Aloth had come topside a few hours ago, a stack of books he'd been meaning to go through in hand and enough ink to fill an entire scroll with notes.

The light was waning now, making it difficult to read and his handwriting increasingly messy. Contentedly, he packed up his research materials and headed below. Dinner was a taar loaf scavenged from the back of the pantry, behind all the hardtack nobody had wanted to eat, a handful of dried koiki fruit and a warm mug of khapa tea to wash it down. He retired to his cabin as the sun sank below the horizon, its fading rays glimmering like a path across the ocean.

As he ate, cross-legged on the little carpet he'd kept in his tent at the digsite, he realized how roomy the cabin he shared with Edér and Tekēhu seemed without them in it. It was little more than a closet with three bunks stacked on top of one another, made smaller by the haphazard belongings of both of them scattered across the room and still, it seemed a luxury compared to how it had been _before_. 

Through long trial, he had known well enough that Edér was not the neatest person in Eora. Tekēhu too tended to leave his things wherever he dropped them and while that might not have been a recipe for disaster in itself, the two of them combined most certainly was. When their mess began to regularly extend to his sleeping berth, Aloth had decided to draw a firm line.

He'd begun with polite requests. When those were repeatedly forgotten or disregarded, depending on the party being asked, he’d taken it upon himself to throw any item in his bed that he had no ownership of out one of the gun ports. Edér had quickly become a lot more conscientious once he’d had the horror of witnessing Aloth ever-so-slowly sliding Whispers of Yenwood out the port. 

He hadn’t truly meant to toss it. And Edér had come running before he could get very far. But the performance had done wonders to make his point. It had been quite some time since he’d flopped down on his own bed and found the head of a morningstar in his lower back. 

Tekēhu was a harder palohe nut to crack. He had a seemingly limitless supply of disposable belongings - baubles from the adoring tribes they’d visited, half eaten bags of candied nuts that stuck to the blankets and once, an entire swordfish, wet and writhing on his clean sheets with no explanation offered as to where it had come from. At least that thing had taken well to being thrown overboard.

And every time he brought up the possibility of keeping his things to himself in conversation, it was met with “Ekera, friend! You are free to borrow them.” or “You may thank me later!”

It was _infuriating._

But at least he hadn’t seen any of Tekēhu's “leather necklaces” in his vicinity in some time. That was some small grace, at least. 

He sipped down the last dregs of tea and dressed for bed. With a content sigh, he slid into the bottom bunk and sank into his pillow. 

There was something hard digging into the back of his head. With a grumble, he sat up and thrust his hand under the pillow. His fingers felt the familiar touch of a leather cord and with a huff, he pulled it free. 

The thing attached to it came flying out and hit the floor with a heavy thunk. A moment to summon a little ball of light in his hand to see what it was and…

_Oh._

Unlike the necklaces, there was no ambiguity in what the purpose of _this_ thing was. 

“He _didn’t_!” he choked out, half to himself and half to Iselmyr. 

“At leist it’s clean.” she answered.

“If you say so.” he muttered, digging a handkerchief from his belongings. 

He’d have to find a new pillowcase, sheets…the blanket probably wasn’t any more sanitary than the rest. 

Wrinkling his nose, he picked the thing up by the edge of its base and carried it before him like the dead rat he’d found in the hold once. He heard it hit the water below with a splash and with a sigh of relief, closed the gun port behind it. 

He was halfway back to the cabin when he realized that he was still holding the leather cord. It was thin and supple, the texture pleasing to the touch. It warmed in his hand easily, molding to his skin. He wondered what it was made out of. The color was similar to sharkskin but surely it-

“I could show ye how teh use et.”

“No! No…” Aloth said reflexively, nearly dropping it on the floor, “I’m...perfectly alright with not knowing that, thank you.”

“ _If ye say so._ ” she answered, somehow managing to mimic him badly despite sharing the same vocal cords.

He set the cord aside, exchanged his pillow for Eder’s and drifted into sleep. 

***

It was the stillness of the ship that woke him, so strange after being filled to bursting with noise and action these past few months. It was eerie, waking up in darkness to hear not a single soul shifting around, nor the sound of another's breath in the berths above him. 

He wondered exactly what the Watcher had gotten herself into this time. He'd expected her back by now, but then again the amount of times a simple task had turned into a complex one on them were too numerous to count. The odds were that she'd be fine. They'd certainly been in worse places than the Watershaper's Guild. And he was more or less certain that she wasn't at the bottom of the ocean again. 

He supposed that the crew were spending their night at the Wild Mare. Chitupec's snoring was curiously absent and he hadn't heard one single screaming night terror from Giordu yet. They’d most likely be half-dead of hangovers by morning but newly enervated by the time the Watcher as ready to set sail. 

He wondered if any of them were paying for Ymir’s time. The thought was almost too embarrassing to dwell on. 

He felt Iselmyr perk up within him.

“Oh, aye?” she purred, “Itching for his kindling touch again, are ye? If ye put yer coin whar yer dick is than mebbe”-

“Stop it!” he snapped, his voice louder in the dark than he intended, “I can’t. He’s my friend. I couldn’t…”

A hand was stroking his dick beneath the blanket with long, gentle strokes. He relaxed into the pillow, closed his eyes and let her work.

He hadn’t masturbated for the entire first half of his life, let alone come anything close to having sex. It was too frightening. Too embarrassing, always knowing that another presence was peering through his eyes, watching all his most secret deeds, knowing his deepest desires. He’d started experimenting a little in his thirties, but only when Iselmyr was backed into the corner of his mind that she couldn’t easily escape from. It was exhausting keeping her there, but at least he got a few moments of something resembling privacy. 

It all seemed so silly now. 

Though he was still coming to terms with it, even five years later, she was an inextricable part of him. A guardian when there hadn’t been a suitable one in his life. And more recently, despite her rough ways and jeering words, a comforter when there was no one else who could comfort him. Not that he would ever say as much aloud. 

Of course, she knew all the same.

He melted in her touch, his chest and face flushing with heat as fingers that were and were not his own stroked languidly up and down. 

He imagined that it was Ymir doing it, that he was sprawled out on the couch on the upper floor of the Wild Mare, the air heady with booze and sweat. Dozens of eyes were on him, watching him moan and twitch under Ymir’s grip. 

It was mortifying. 

It was exhilarating. 

Still stroking him, Ymir leaned down for a kiss. Aloth arched up to meet him. 

It was like being splashed by a bucket of cold water when Iselmyr ripped the blankets off of him. She snapped her fingers and a ball of light was floating in his face.

“Now what ye’ve got tae do…” she murmured, pushing the light a little lower and picking up the leather cord from where it had fallen. 

His dick, still standing at attention despite the cold, made an odd shadow on the wall as the light passed closer to it. 

“…is tie et nae too tight and nae too loose.”

Her hands were deft and quick. She looped it under his balls, around the base of his shaft, keeping a single finger between the cord and his skin while she worked. She tied it off with a neat slipknot. It was a surprisingly artful package. He twitched his hips, admiring it in the magelight, feeling its tightness as he moved. 

It was odd. Not quite pleasant, but not unpleasant either. He felt debauched wearing it, deliciously _wrong_. The thought of someone else seeing him like this made his heart pound in his chest, fer and excitement mingling in his blood.

“And what et daes, lad…” she went on, grinning like a shark with his face as the light faded, “Is make ye sensitive sometin’ _fierce._ ”

He gasped as she ran her fingernails under his glans, all his will going towards not screaming out and waking Beodul. 

He could feel his heartbeat in his balls. He twitched helplessly in her grip, squirming as she touched and played and pinched. He hardly noticed when she pulled the blankets back up, enveloping them in warmth again.

***

“It’s beautiful.” Ymir said, admiring Iselmyr’s work as he ran a hand down his artfully tied shaft. 

Aloth shuddered at the touch, biting his tongue to keep back his cries. He was on his knees, his hands tied behind his back by some intricate knot that Ymir had learnt in his “training.” 

Ymir put a finger under his chin and lifted his face until Aloth opened his eyes to look at him. 

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, meeting his gaze. His other hand slipped lower, brushing his dick gently, petting it like a tamed animal.

“The three of us should get together more often, don’t you think?” he said, momentarily taking it a little rougher as Aloth squirmed and gasped under his touch, “I don’t know why you didn’t tell me about her sooner.”

“I…was afraid.” he choked out, his face flushing with shame and lust, “For a long time.”

“Oh…poor thing.” Ymir murmured, taking the finger from under his chin and gently mussing his immaculately kept hair, “Well, I’m glad you’re outgrowing that now. And I’m happy to help you on your way.”

He could feel the pressure of an oncoming orgasm building up inside him. 

“T-Thank you.” he gasped, wishing suddenly that he could touch him as much as he was being touched. That he could feel his lips on his even though he knew it was just a fantasy. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and bit his tongue as he came. 

***

In the morning, aside from Beodul, Aloth was just about the only fresh-faced person aboard the Defiant. The crew was hung over, nursing their various headaches with the concoctions they swore by. The Watcher and her party had returned in the early hours of the morning, covered in mud and slime and looking as though they'd been ground down to powder in the adra mill. 

They nodded off into their breakfasts. With particular pleasure, Aloth noted that Tekēhu seemed more deflated than usual, his hair hanging limp against his neck, his grand watershaper’s robes tattered and filthy. None of the sprightly artist he'd argued with just yesterday was there. Aloth edged a little closer to him around the makeshift table.

“You…left something in my bed last night.” he said, frowning over his mug of steaming tea. 

Tekēhu looked at him blearily.

“Ekera, did I?”

He rubbed his eye with the back of his hand, which only served to smear a fresh streak of mud across his fishy face. 

“Well, you’re free to make use of it.” he finished, waving off Aloth’s concerns with a nonchalant gesture. 

There was a familiar pressure building in his skull. It grew there when he wasn't being listened to, when his concerns were shrugged off time and time again, when someone made him feel small, told him - through word or action or fist - that he didn't matter. It was only relieved by asserting himself, by making his needs known without a shadow of a doubt. For a long time, he hadn't done that. And then Iselmyr had taken over the responsibility. But now...his anger rose in his throat and it was his alone to deal with.

He set his mug down loudly enough to jerk Tekēhu out of his stupor.

“No, Tekēhu, I did not wish to make _use_ of it. I wished to fall asleep in my own bed without finding any untoward surprises beneath my pillow. What I _wish_ is for you to respect what little space I have in this ship, as per every single time I have _ever_ asked you. Why is that so difficult for you to understand?”

Everyone was staring at them. No one moved. A seagull, the only being on the ship daring to make a sound, squawked on the mast.

For a split second Aloth wondered if his spells were enough to protect him from the crashing wave that Ngati’s chosen was sure to wash him overboard with any second now. 

Tekēhu was looking at him as though he were seeing him for the first time, his colorless eyes clear and forthright. 

“Ekera, I’m…sorry.” he said, reaching up and tugging on a strand of his hair. It wiggled to life between his fingers, “I will keep a closer eye on my belongings in the future.”

“Yes...well..." Aloth sputtered.

He hadn't considered that this would actually _work_.

"See that you do.”

***

When he was ready for bed, there was nothing in it. The sheets were clean and crisp, the blanket freshly beaten. Nothing poked him in the back of his head when he laid it on the pillow. There was not a trace of any of Tekēhu's things anywhere in his vicinity. 

Well, maybe one thing.

When everyone was well asleep, he slid his hand inside his pillowcase and pulled out a tightly knotted leather cord.

Iselmyr chuckled inside his head and got to work.


End file.
